by Emery, Lynn
Simon stared after him for a few minutes. He’d tried to convince Baylor that Rae Dalcour meant only business; now what about convincing himself? He tried to think of the shapely woman, a look of worldly wariness in those big brown eyes, without feeling she was a mystery he wanted to solve. Simon shook his head as though to clear it. Man, you gotta be out of your ever-lovin’ mind!
A booming male voice came from the outer office. Another excellent reason to curb this train of thought, Simon mused. A loud knock sounded, only to be followed by the door swinging open immediately.
“Hey, son! How’s my boy?” Tall with a light tan, Joseph St. Cyr was still a commanding figure at seventy-five.
“Hi, Papa Joe,” said Simon, getting up to hug his grandfather. “Come on in here. This is a rare visit. Since you retired, you avoid any place that reminds you of work.”
“Working your butt off for forty years will do that to you, Simon. Of course you’re working for yourself, which is different.” Papa Joe glanced around the office. “This is why I laid bricks for Acme all those years – to see my sons and grandsons have their own businesses.” He lost his smile at the reference to Simon’s father. “How is your daddy?”
“You could pick up the phone once in a while and ask him.”
Papa Joe sat down with a grunt. “Well he could do the same,” he retorted. “Phillip threw away a chance to build something for you. I handed him the future and he spat in my face.”
“Daddy didn’t want to be in the bricklaying business, but Uncle James did.” Simon had heard this all his life. He’d been close to Papa Joe in a way that his father had never been.
“James would have an easier time of it if Phil helped him. I love my boys, but James doesn’t have as much smarts as Phil.”
Simon sighed. The two men had been at war with each other for years. Papa Joe was a ‘take charge’ man with strong opinions, as was his son, Phillip. The son had chosen to be a college professor; something Papa Joe still did not understand or accept. The result was that the two men rarely spoke. Both were too stiff-necked to bend. Simon feared they would realize too late the price of estrangement.
“Which is why he loves being a political science professor, Papa Joe. Daddy would be real happy if you took pride in his accomplishments. He has been a consultant to several governors and a senator.” Simon knew his father would never admit to wanting his father’s approval.
“Lying politicians! And that’s another thing – helping Taylor Caldwell get elected.” Papa Joe looked to the ceiling, as though seeking divine forgiveness. “My kin working for that rhetoric-spouting bag of wind…”
“Caldwell may be too liberal for your taste–”
“That’s an understatement. The man wants to keep our people in a perpetual welfare state.” Papa Joe wagged a finger in the air, in preparation of launching into a debate on government policy.
“But Daddy believes he’s a good, honest man,” Simon pressed.
“Oh, give me strength! He’s an idiot, you mean.” Papa Joe leaned forward. “You agree with me and don’t bother to deny it.”
“The point is you and Daddy should find a way to stop fighting each other. It makes no sense whatsoever,” Simon replied.
“It’s his fault.” Papa Joe’s mouth turned down in a stubborn pout.
“I give up, for now.” Simon squinted at his grandfather. “But you two are going to see reason if I have to knock your heads together. This bickering is stupid.”
“Let’s not argue, Simon. Maybe I’ll give Phil a call later today.” Papa Joe tried to appease his grandson. “Guess I oughta be old enough to know better. Don’t be mad at me.”
Simon gazed at him with affection. Strangely, the bond that should have been between Papa Joe and Simon’s father had skipped a generation. Simon’s earliest memory was of following his grandfather around brickyards when he was only four years old. His mother and grandmother had objected on safety grounds, yet Simon had howled with such force at being left behind that they relented.
Simon fixed him a mug of coffee. “You know I can’t be angry with you for more than a minute. Now what brings you to town?”
“Oh, just came in to pick up a few things at Lawson’s Hardware and thought I’d say hello.” Papa Joe accepted the mug and took a sip.
“I see. What things?”
“Some nails. A handle on the dresser in our bedroom broke. You know, odds and ends.”
Simon eyed him for a few seconds. “You fixed the handle last week. I was by the house. Another one broke?”
“Oh, I, uh, got an extra just in case. And your grandmother wanted me to get some of those headache pills from the drugstore.” Papa Joe did not look at him.
“I see.” Simon waited for the real reason his grandfather had left his beloved sanctuary six miles out of town.
Several moments passed as Papa Joe sipped from the mug. Then he said, “I hear Raenette Dalcour is staying around to settle up her daddy’s affairs.” Papa Joe affected a matter-of-fact tone.
“Yes.”
“I suppose she’ll be here a few more days, then leave.”
Simon lifted a shoulder. “Maybe.”
“I mean, there’s no reason for her to stay around here. Is there?” Papa Joe looked at him intently.
“I guess not. Don’t really know.”
Papa Joe put the mug down and puffed in frustration. “Damn it, this is like pulling teeth. You talked to the girl. What did she say?”
“I spoke to her for a total of maybe five minutes. She’s meeting with me tomorrow. That’s all I know. It is!” he insisted when Papa Joe looked at him with a doubtful expression.
“About that property, I know Darcy and Henry want to buy it. Lucien spat in Henry’s eye when he tried to talk to him about it four years ago. Think she’ll sell?”
“She didn’t spit in my eye, so that could be a good sign,” Simon replied with amusement. “But I don’t know. She could decide to stay, at least that’s one rumor I’ve heard.”
“Why would she want to do that? She’s a singer making money recording records and such.”
“From what I hear, Rae Dalcour is not a woman so easy to figure out. Could liven up this town, eh?” Simon wore a slight smile.
“Umph.”
When Papa Joe’s worried expression remained, Simon became serious. “Why does this bother you so?”
“Lord, we don’t need all that stirred up again.” Papa Joe raked his fingers through his iron-gray hair.
Simon tried to reassure him. “Papa Joe, this has nothing to do with what happened all those years ago. It’s a simple business proposition. She’ll either say yes or no.”
“Just like young folks. I was the same at your age. All that old-timey stuff didn’t have anything to do with me.” Papa Joe, his head tilted, looked back to previous decades. “But it does, Simon. Somehow it just won’t go away.”
“I don’t understand. How can what Vincent Dalcour did fifty years ago have anything to do with his granddaughter?” Simon shook his head slowly. “I know it’s hard for you to forget what happened. But–”
“Seems like yesterday that Vince was standing right there, on that corner, laughing and joking with us. We used to come to Mr. Peter’s store, one of only three black drugstores in this part of the state back then.” Papa Joe was too caught up in his memories to hear anything else.
Simon crossed to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “What Mr. Vincent did is in the past, Papa Joe. It was bad, but it’s over. Rae Dalcour will most probably sell and that will be that.”
Papa Joe blinked his eyes at him. He sighed. “Maybe you’re right, son.”
“Of course I am. And even if she doesn’t, it won’t matter. Sure, folks will talk, but they’ll soon get bored and move on to more recent gossip. You’ll see.” Simon gave his shoulder a pat.
“Hope she sells and just leaves,” Papa Joe said with a fierce gleam in his eyes. “Talk to her, Simon. Offer her a good price that she can’t refuse.
All the Dalcours love somebody else’s money. She’s probably no different. Just make her think she’s taking money out of your pocket for free.”
“I’ve never heard you talk like this about anybody, Papa Joe.” Simon was disturbed by the hostility toward a young woman whom Papa Joe had probably never even met.
“She’s a Dalcour; that’s all I need to know. You’ll see.” Papa Joe looked at him. “Don’t get too close, son. They’re trouble.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
Papa Joe nodded soberly. “Listen to them, Simon.”
“Oh, come on, stop getting yourself all worked up over nothing. I’m a big boy. I think I can handle Rae Dalcour, even if she is a package of firecrackers ready to go off.” Simon chuckled. He tried to joke his grandfather out of his somber mood.
Papa Joe studied his grandson. “I know she’s attractive, boy. That spark in your eyes tells me you know it, too. Just remember what damage firecrackers can do if you get too close.” He patted Simon’s hand. “Well, enough of this serious talk. I’m getting too grim in my old age. Let’s go over to LeBeau’s for some lunch.”
To avoid upsetting his grandfather, Simon did not pursue the subject. Yet he could not help but be intrigued that Raenette Dalcour could inspire such concern by simply coming back to her hometown. In spite of Papa Joe’s warning and Baylor’s remarks, Simon found himself anticipating a chance to spend time with her. He’d seen her from a distance only once more, laughing at something one of her band members had said. The sound was musical and rich. Her dark brown hair shone in the sun when her head went back. Yes, tomorrow would be an interesting day indeed.
Chapter 3
“Well, what are going to do, boy?” Henry Jove stood holding a coffee cup made of fine china with red roses painted on the sides. An antique mirror behind him reflected the image of a man used to being in control. He could easily pass for being a decade younger than his seventy-seven years.
“I’ll handle it.” Darcy wore an irritated expression. He hated being called ‘boy’ by his grandfather in that tone of voice. “I’ve got a plan.”
“You’ve got a plan,” Henry mimicked. “I damn well hope so.” He swallowed some of the contents of his cup.
“Simon is meeting with her today. I have a feeling she’s going to sell.”
Henry gave a snort. “A feeling? Hell! Take action and make sure she sells.”
“I have,” Darcy snapped, as he drew up short at the dark glance Henry gave him. He softened his tone and expression. “The offer Simon is going to make will be more money than her family has ever seen. She’ll take it.”
“You’d better hope she’s not as mule-headed as that father of hers was.” Henry wore an angry scowl. “Drunken fool could have been sitting pretty years ago if he’d taken my offer. That land has got to be in our hands.”
“It will be. I’ll see to that.” Darcy sat down across from his grandfather. “Just as I’ve made our investments grow by twelve percent in the last two years alone.”
“Well, at least you’re no dummy.” Henry appeared to give the compliment grudgingly. “Whatever else your faults may be.”
“Nobody’s perfect.” Darcy spoke in a mild voice without looking at him.
Henry looked at him sharply and then exhaled a puff of air. “What does Simon say to this oil-field waste facility? He must think it’s a good idea.”
“We haven’t discussed it yet.”
“Oh? Tell me, boy. Tell me all of it.” Henry leaned forward and tapped his knee.
“I’m not ready to tell him that my plans for the land have changed. Besides, I’m still discussing it with Mouton and Pantheon. It’s not a certainty just yet.”
“Don’t give me that bull! I’m old, not senile. I talked to Preston Cazes at the chamber meeting Tuesday. He’s excited about the possibility that Pantheon will locate nearby. He’s not sure where, but feels it’s going to be close. Preston knows what’s going to happen in the state before the governor.”
“They haven’t decided between three possible sites. But….” Darcy wore a sly smile.
Henry smiled back at him. “But you have inside information that they’ll favor our land. Good for you, boy.”
Darcy nodded. “All we need is that extra one hundred acres, twenty of which is still in the Dalcour family. Strange how Mr. Lucien never failed to pay the taxes, even with all his other weaknesses.”
“His uncles helped him,” Henry said, “stubborn bunch of no goods.” His voice was bitter.
“Well, Rae won’t cling to that worthless property. After all, renting to hunting clubs doesn’t make much profit.”
“Lucien let a lumber company cut, too.”
“Yes, but it takes fifteen to twenty years for the trees to come back enough to make it profitable.” Darcy shrugged. “I know Rae. She won’t want to be bothered with it.”
Henry gazed at his grandson for a time. “Yes, you do know her, and I hope she’s out of your system.”
“It was a long time ago and we were kids.” Darcy stared downwards. “She probably wouldn’t even speak to me these days.”
“She’s not for you, boy.”
“So you impressed upon me back then, Grandfather,” Darcy said in a quiet voice. “It worked. We broke up.” He looked out the window at the expanse of green lawn in front of the house. “End of story.”
“Good.” Henry gave a curt nod. “What about Mouton?”
“What about him?” Darcy went very still.
“Can he be trusted? The Moutons have been cheating our people for over one hundred years. Seems strange he wants to hook up with Joves in a deal.”
Darcy relaxed. “He has little choice since our property lines intersect. If he wants to negotiate with Pantheon, he has to work with me.”
“Keep your eyes on him. You can bet he wants more than he’s telling. And he’s just as devious as his grandfather and father.” Henry stood up. “He won’t stop until he’s got what he wants.”
“Mouton and I understand each other.” Darcy brushed the front of his crisp, cotton shirt. “I know exactly how to handle him.” He smiled up at Henry.
“Humph,” was his grandfather’s only reply as he started to leave. “I’m going to a meeting. Hello, cher.” Henry pecked Toya on the cheek before continuing out the door.
“Morning, Darcy” said Toya as she strolled in. She dropped down in the chair that her grandfather had just vacated. “I was driving by and saw your car.”
“I see.” Darcy poured himself another coffee from the pot, which was set on a large tray on a nearby table. “How are you this fine morning?”
“Okay. Have you talked to Simon?” she asked in a rush. “He’s meeting with Rae. I don’t like it.”
“You don’t like Simon talking to any female, Toya. No wonder the man headed for the nearest exit not long after you two were married.” Darcy did not mince words.
Toya turned on him. “Let’s not get into failed marriages, shall we? You haven’t done very well in that area. Simon and I had our differences, but that doesn’t mean we won’t resolve them. You, on the other hand–” She waved a hand in the air.
Darcy smiled. “It takes a special woman to hold my interest.”
“I suppose you’re referring to Rae Dalcour. You enjoyed humping her in cemeteries for the thrill.” Toya smirked at him.
“Not our rendezvous of choice. I seem to remember you were the one caught in St. Anthony Cemetery at the tender age of fifteen with Roy Ballantine huffing away. Ring a bell?” Darcy lifted an eyebrow at her.
“Oh, shut up.” Toya wore a tight expression. She fixed herself a cup of coffee. “The point is I don’t want that woman anywhere near Simon. For some reason I’ll never understand, she draws men to her like flies to a cow patty.”
“Rae has a quick wit and she’s pretty – a nice package.” Darcy looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure how she’d react to me or I’d–”
“You’d what? Don’t tell me you still find her
attractive? Oh, please.” Toya got up to pace.
“We clicked like crazy. I still don’t understand it.”
“You’re not by yourself, believe me.” Toya stood over him. “Don’t forget what Grandfather thinks about you and her.”
Darcy grinned. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what Grandfather thinks these days.”
“Brave words now that he’s long gone, Darcy,” Toya sneered at him. “You just remember to stay away from her. You’re not even divorced from that last moron.”
“Katherine and I will be divorced by October. I’ll be free.” Darcy frowned. “As for Simon, he’s strictly interested in business. But maybe I’ll test the waters. It would be nice to see her again.”
“And what will your latest friend think of all this? I mean, you finally got Katherine out of the way.” Toya sat down again, a wicked gleam in her eye.
Darcy gave her a cold look. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t you?”
“Careful, Sister, I’ll only take so much.” Darcy’s jaw muscle jumped.
“Darcy, your sex life, interesting as it is in its variety, is your affair.” Toya stared back at him without flinching. “But we could get very rich with this Pantheon deal. Don’t get so devious that you outsmart yourself. Ellis Mouton is nobody’s fool.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing. Haven’t Grandfather and I always taken care of you?” Darcy gestured to her three-hundred-dollar Coach purse. “You’ve had the best of everything all your life. I won’t do anything to jeopardize the family’s financial health.”
“See that you don’t. As you say, I’m used to the finer things, which includes Simon. Keep him away from Rae, Darcy.” Toya reached out to clutch his wrist.
Darcy patted her hand. “I intend to get that property. As for Simon, he’s not going to be interested in her. You know how he is. Conventional.”
*
Henry’s wife, seven years his junior, looked older than her seventy years. Her light skin, the color of country cream, was lined with care. She sat across from Henry at the large dining-room table.
Pauline, the lady who cleaned and cooked for them three times a week, stuck her head though the door that led down a short hall to the kitchen. “Y’all need anything else, Miss Cecile?”
